My Fair Highlander

“I am nae so sure, Mistress.”

His words were spoken like a judgment. They rang across the hall, making sure no one wearing his colors missed the fact that he wanted her to remain. Jemma felt as if an iron collar were being locked around her neck.

“I am sorry to hear that we disagree, Lord Barras, for neighbors should be friendly whenever possible; yet I must return to my home. That is, of course, the only correct thing to do. My brother will express his gratitude for the service you have shown me, I am certain of that.”

Jemma lowered herself, curtsying in a perfect display of feminine poise and grace. She rose back up smoothly and promptly turned her back on him. There was astonishment on the faces she saw, a few jaws dropping open. Jemma did not stop to consider any of it. She moved at a quick pace through the great hall, the open doors at the far end beckoning to her.

But she never felt the sunlight touch her face. A strong hand latched around her upper arm and pulled her toward a doorway off to the side of the hall. She didn’t need to question who that grip belonged to because her body leaped with excitement, recognizing the touch instantly. She waited until the door shut behind them and turned on Gordon with all the pent-up fury her false demeanor had stifled.

“I will not stay here. Best you understand that, sir.”

He folded his arms across his chest and placed his body between the door and her. “There will be an understanding here, lass, but no by me. Ye will stay inside this castle until I grant ye leave.”

“You have no right to command me so.”

“No right?” His voice lowered. “I have every right, Jemma. Ye came so close to being killed by yer own foolishness last night that I have earned the right to enforce my will on ye because following yer whims has been proven so perilous.”

She shook her head, unwilling to listen to his words. But he moved forward and cupped her chin in one of his large hands to hold her still.

“Do ye doubt that those English are still out there, or that they have comrades who will help them extract vengeance on anyone they find? Even one of their own?”

“I will be safe at Amber Hill.”

“Ye would need an escort of at least fifty men, and I need those same men to safeguard me villages and fields.”

“But that leaves me stranded here.” Jemma shook off his hand, unable to stomach the touch when she felt as if that iron collar was growing heavier with every sentence he spoke. “I cannot simply live here.”

“And why not?” He stiffened. “Barras Castle is a fine place to live, lass.”

“That is not my objection to remaining and you know it.”

His lips curved up in mocking jest. “Well now, lass, I seem to recall that ye found me to yer liking last night as well. Yer lips moved so sweetly beneath my own—”

“Stop it. Such talk is sinful.”

He moved toward her and she retreated, but they were only in a small storage room and a solid wall stopped her within a few paces. Gordon pressed his hands onto that wall, caging her with his thickly muscled arms. He was so close she could smell his skin once more, and she found it more pleasing than she remembered.

“Well then, I suppose that only leaves us action, if ye do nae want any talking about what is between us.”

“There is nothing between us—”

His mouth smothered the rest of her denial. Today’s kiss was firmer and more demanding. His elbows bent, allowing his body to brush against her own. She jerked, too flooded by sensation to remain still. But Gordon captured the sides of her head once more, his hands spreading wide to hold her face exactly where he wanted it. His mouth continued to demand, pressing against her lips until she opened them. The tip of his tongue teased the soft skin of her lower lip before licking its way along her upper one. It felt as if he was tasting her and savoring every moment. His body kept hers caged against the wall, allowing her no reprieve from the overload of stimulation. It poured into her from the warm scent of his skin to the way his mouth pressed hers to open farther.

“There is a great deal between us, lass, and I am going to enjoy exploring it.” He trailed tiny kisses across her cheek and onto the side of her neck. She shivered, never having suspected that her skin might be so sensitive. Delight traveled down her body, touching off renewed excitement in her belly that swirled and leaped into a roaring blaze of need. She gasped, shuddering at the sheer intensity of that need. It clawed at her like some beast in search of nourishment and the only thing it craved was Gordon. She reached for him, her hands unable to remain at her sides in denial of what she desired. It was suddenly clear to her that she was lonely, her body suffering from not being touched. Her hands absorbed the warmth of his body with gratefulness, setting off a quiver behind her knees. She wanted to sink down and press herself completely against him.

The image of them rolling across the surface of a bed shocked her with the carnality of her desires.

“Stop, Gordon . . . please.” She was pleading, but desperation was welling up inside her because she knew that her resolve was beginning to be undermined by the flood of physical need.

“The sound of my name on yer lips is sweeter than honey, lass.” Gordon straightened his head to lock his gaze with hers. His hands returned to the wall beside her head, and she heard his breathing rasping between his clenched teeth. “Even if I have no liking for what ye are asking me.”

“You must stop.”

He snorted at her, and his eyes lit with determination that warned her. The man did not care for being told what he must do. He leaned forward, but Jemma raised her hand and covered his lips to prevent him from kissing her again.

“I want you to stop.”

He pressed a hand on the center of her chest, his fingers directly over her heart. She gasped, never having felt any man’s hand on the soft swells of her breasts. Even her clothing did not prevent her from shivering.